


letting go (of the life i knew)

by softouches



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Birthday, Fluff, I don't even know how to tag this, M/M, SO, and he is stuck in elevator, and he meets felix, but a bit angsty? like a little bit, cakes and cookies, changbin is angsty but not too much, felix is ball of sunshine, producer changbin, so it's binnie's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25820749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softouches/pseuds/softouches
Summary: “Nice to meet you, Changbin,” the boy’s voice gets louder than whisper for the first time, as he peaks out even more. “And happy birthday,” small smile graces his lips as he says that, titling his head to the side cutely.Usually that phrase makes Changbin's guts twist and blood boil, not in a good way, rather evoking anxious and desperate feelings. But the boy’s voice seems so sincere, and his eyes hold so much kindness in them that Changbin can’t help but melt, not even resisting the same kind of smile appearing on his lips. “Thank you,” he replies and it’s the first time in a few years when he’s sincerely grateful for a birthday congratulations.
Relationships: Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 101





	letting go (of the life i knew)

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday, seo changbin! please, give this boy a lot of love today <3 
> 
> heavily inspired by [letting go](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lb3eBql5ABM) and [worst in me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6xp62mebCZg) , eye of the storm album by one ok rock in general, thank them for making me finish this fic on time

The night is dark. But Changbin feels his thoughts are darker.

The sounds from rough scribbling against the paper fill the room, creating a comforting white noise as Changbin hovers over his notebook. Today’s night seems especially gloomy and gaunt, so the words flow on the paper almost effortlessly, creating ingenious patterns on the paper.

A lot of people prefer working on laptops now, but Changbin still sticks to his pen and small notebooks that he carries around with him everywhere. It still gives off this childhood feel, like he is still a kid who has discovered the power of pen and his thoughts for the first time. And it’s something that brings back this bittersweet taste of nostalgia that Changbin can swear he tastes in his mouth.

The door behind him opens with a barely audible click, but the boy manages to catch that, slowly turning around to welcome a guest. Chan, with a laptop in his hands and earphones thrown over his neck, gives out a small smile, settling in the nearest chair.

“Happy birthday!” He exclaims, accompanying it with a bit awkward hand gesture. Changbin flinches, looking at the clock on the table.

**_12:02 AM_ **

Oh, right. His birthday.

“I know you’re not that fond of your birthdays,” Chan continues, looking at the boy cautiously. “But I wanted to do at least something for you, so,” he shrugs, looking at the side, “you can go home.”

Changbin snorts. “Hyung, you know I’m staying late not because of you.”

“That’s why I want to gift you a healthy sleep,” Changbin arches an eyebrow at that. “What? You really should give yourself a rest.”

“Says a person who doesn’t sleep,” Changbin huffs, still looking at unfinished lyrics in his notebook. He does feel tired, and the whole ‘birthday mood’ submerges him in a depressive state, rather than a typically joyful one, and it’s not contributing to his productiveness, as the setting of the song he’s working on now is more uplifting and romantic.

“That’s why I want at least one of us to rest,” Chan looks up from his screen. “And, well,” he crosses arms on his chest, the corner of his lips twisting in rather sly manner. “I’m still your boss, right?”

“Ah, are we really going there?” Changbin groans, and Chan lets out a sincere laugh. “I thought you were different, hyung,” he whines playfully.

“I’m doing it because I’m worried, you dumbass,” Chan replies softly. “And since I can’t give you a proper gift, at least do me a favour and rest.”

It was a rule that Changbin made sure to settle at the very beginning. No birthday wishes, no presents, no surprise parties. Changbin had his reasons, and Chan didn’t argue, but the boy saw how actually hard for him it was, as the older had much more affection in him than an average person could actually handle.

“Okay,” Changbin mutters. “But then I’m coming in early in the morning.”

Chan sighs tiredly at that but whispers ‘deal’, and Changbin finally starts gathering his things in a small backpack.

“Write me when you get home,” Chan mumbles as he types something on his laptop, and Changbin hums at that, walking out of the doors. He actually lives in a place which is in five-minute walk from the studio, but Chan is always nervous anyways, so he always makes sure to ask him for an affirmative text.

The skies are clear, and it is still rather hot, despite it being a middle of the night, something that you expect from early august. The air is humid and thick, and Changbin almost growls in annoyance, making his way through the streets and feeling as sweat starts accumulating and running down on his back.

Summers suck. Maybe that’s also why he was never fond of his birthdays. The only positive thing about summers was the absence of school, but unfortunately Changbin is already an adult, and even that is just a reminiscence of past, making summer for him now completely unbearable.

The building of his apartment complex towers above crowded streets and he takes out a phone to write quick ‘I’m home’ message to Chan. He enters the building, and starts approaching elevator. As he comes in, and is ready to press usual ‘8’ curved on a shabby-looking button, someone yells ‘Please, hold the doors!’ from afar. Changbin considers closing them, but sanity takes over, so he makes sure to leave the doors open.

“Thank you so much,” the figure stumbles up in the elevator and, well. This is a boy, and he is handsome.

Breathtaking, even.

Not that physical appearance bothered Changbin much. It did have an effect on him in some way, of course, as he is a human and his main organs of perception are eyes, but Changbin perceived beauty as something purely aesthetical. Like a picture, a scenery, a piece of art.

But the boy in front of him looks surreal. Changbin even has to pinch himself on the arm to make sure he is not a lucid dream, product of his overtired and exhausted brain. His hair is bleached, glimmering with a silverish gradation, and his lashes are so long that Changbin manages to catch their shadows falling on his cheeks even from the distance. The boy is also wearing a suit, which is kind of at odds with his rather youthful face, but Changbin can’t deny that it fits him _so fucking good_.

The blonde boy opens his mouth, but Changbin doesn’t seem to identify any sounds coming in from him. He shakes his head, blinking fast and trying to come to senses.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Changbin screeches, feeling his voice cracking in the middle.

_What a nice first impression, Seo Changbin._

But whereas any other person would be annoyed, the boy smiles with a widest smile, and Changbin thinks he dies.

Just a little.

“Can you press 10th floor, please?” He asks once again, voice deep and calm, and Changbin whispers a rushed ‘of course’, pressing the button. The elevator starts moving, and the pretty boy leans on one of the walls, dreamingly looking at the ceiling. Changbin can’t help but steal quick glances, trying hard not to be that obvious. He thinks he miserably fails but that doesn’t seem to matter at that moment.

Tenth floor is only two floors above which has Changbin thinking—

 _No, Seo Changbin._ This is lowkey creepy, and he met the boy just seconds ago, and he doesn’t even have the name. And he’s not the person who falls for people easily.

But the boy is gorgeous, and Changbin is a weak man.

Just as he thinks through every option of starting decent conversation, there is a loud bang, and the lights in the elevator go off. They stay like this, in silence, for approximately three minutes – Changbin counts to calm himself down – only heavy breathing echoing through the walls.

“I think we should call the operator,” Changbin huffs in the void, as the other boy’s face is covered in darkness. He pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight, searching for a call button. “Oh, here it is.”

“Can you do this, please?” The question sounds almost like a plea, voice strained, like the boy is almost on the verge of crying.

Changbin’s heart clenches, and not only because he obviously has the tiniest crush on the boy. He has always been protective, always needed someone to take care of, and he hated seeing people miserable and desperate, as there has been this big need of making everyone feel safe.

Leo things, he guesses.

Changbin presses a small red button, handling a conversation with a seemingly bored woman on the other side of the line. And after five minutes of pointless arguing – as he gets called ‘rude’ and ‘uneducated’ five times in a row – he hangs up, sighing tiredly in the void.

“So,” he clears his throat, holding a flashlight a bit below his face. “You’ve probably heard,” Changbin is sure as he almost howled at the poor lady, “But they said that as it’s pretty late now, the only technician that they have is not on the shift,” it’s silent, but Changbin can swear he heard sharp breath intake, “and the best they could promise is that he comes in an hour.”

Changbin counts again. It’s three minutes, then five, then eight, but the other boy stays dead silent, even his breathing being almost inaudible. Wave of small panic crushes him down, and he looks at the phone in his hand, blinding flashlight illuminating his own face. He doesn’t know what to do, and how to act, and should he approach the boy or just leave him alone.

 _No_ , Changbin thinks. _I have to make sure it’s fine._

Slowly, and carefully, he switches the light so it falls on the boy’s figure. At first he freaks out, as he doesn’t see anyone in the corner, wondering what kind of horror movie this is, but as his gaze drops he sees as the boy is crouching down, hugging himself with both arms, head hiding in them, and his silhouette almost trembles from the shivers.

Changbin feels his heart clenching again as he rushes to the boy’s side, leaving flashlight on the floor to keep the room illuminated. “Hey, hey, hey,” he crouches down to get on the boy’s level. The latter is still not looking at him, but acknowledges Changbin’s presence with a low hum. He hesitates for a moment, holding his hand a centimeter away from the boy’s arm, before grasping it, then rubbing reassuring circles into his skin. “Are you okay?” Changbin whispers, trying not to scare the boy away. “I mean, obviously not,” he hears a low snort and it’s a small win for Changbin.

The boy shifts in his place. “I just--,” he takes a deep breath. “Not a fan of closed spaces.”

“I guessed,” Changbin blurts out, immediately freaking out because _I am so fucking stupid,_ but he hears a muffled chuckle, and feels a slight relief. At least the boy is able to laugh. “Can I help you or--,” his eyes wonder along the elevator walls. “Or should I just… shut up, I don’t know. Either is fine, actually.”

The boy stays silent, but after few minutes peaks out of the crook of his elbow, resting his head there so he could face Changbin. And Changbin thinks he dies a little because the boy is even prettier up close, even in the poorly illuminated room. “If it’s not difficult for you, can you please tell me random stuff?” His voice is still almost a whisper, trembling slightly, but it’s so velvety that it sends chills down Changbin’s spine. “It doesn’t have to make sense, I just need a distraction. It usually helps when I get anxious.”

“Oh,” Changbin huffs. He’s not the best at small talks, preferring deeper and more meaningful conversations. But the boy looks like he will break down in tears at any moment, so Changbin doesn’t really have a choice. “Okay,” he softly replies, still clutching on the boy’s arm, his touch now seeming more nervous than reassuring. “Uhm, my name’s Seo Changbin,” he mentally slaps himself because _how fucking original_ , but still goes on, “It’s the first time I come back home this early,” he chuckles, “I sleep four hours a day, and if I get to sleep six it’s a win,” he stops for a second, thinking through if he really wants to say what is next on his mind. “And it’s my birthday today.”

“Nice to meet you, Changbin,” the boy’s voice gets louder than whisper for the first time, as he peaks out even more. “And happy birthday,” small smile graces his lips as he says that, titling his head to the side cutely.

Usually that phrase makes his guts twist and blood boil, not in a good way, rather evoking anxious and desperate feelings. But the boy’s voice seems so sincere, and his eyes hold so much kindness in them that Changbin can’t help but melt, not even resisting a same smile appearing on his lips. “Thank you,” he replies and it’s the first time in a few years when he’s sincerely grateful for a birthday congratulations. “And what’s your name, pretty boy?”

_Great, Seo Changbin. Peak of originality._

“Felix,” the boy replies before Changbin can even open his mouth to apologize. “But you can call me pretty boy, if you want,” he arches an eyebrow slyly. _Wasn’t he freaking out few minutes ago? How can he even flirt in this state?_ “So, tell me, Changbin,” Felix throw his head back to rest it against the wall. “Why do you head home, on your own, on your birthday?”

Changbin unwillingly traces his gaze along Felix’s neck, stopping at sharp edges of his jawline. He feels his face getting hotter as he gulps, hoping that it is covered by poor lighting. “Not really fan of my birthdays,” he shrugs. “So I don’t really have plans.”

“Why?” Felix’s eyebrows rise up, eyes closed as he still rests his head against the wall. Coming to conclusion that boy definitely feels better, Changbin looses hold on his arm, also placing his back against the wall near Felix and hugging his knees. “You don’t have to tell me, of course. It’s just kind of interesting.”

Usually, Changbin would just say that it has always been like that. Usually, Changbin would also consider saying that he just doesn’t like getting older, blaming everything on existential crisis, which is half-truth, if he’s completely honest. But something oddly clicks in him, switching his mood in a completely different direction as he dreamingly looks at the room submerged into the mere darkness. “You know, I always thought that we celebrate our birthdays for someone. Relatives, friends, but mostly parents, as they are the one celebrating your existence in their life,” his voice wavers a bit, but he brushes it off. “And my parents… are not exactly keen on my existence,” he huffs, hugging his knees closer. “So I don’t really see the reason behind celebrating it.” The words flow easier than he thought they would, maybe because he’s mostly covered by dark shadows, or maybe because it’s really easy to forget that someone is in the premises as well.

 _Lies._ Felix’s presence seems brighter than a freaking flashlight of his phone.

“Sorry,” the other boy replies. Changbin mumbles that it’s fine, slightly pinching Felix on the leg. The latter grins and shuffles from his place, taking a backpack in his hands, probably to search for something. After few seconds he takes out something that looks like a container, pulling something out and holds it for the boy.

It’s a cookie. _A fucking cookie_. A pretty boy, with whom he stuck in the elevator, and who nearly had a panic attack, gives him a fucking cookie, out of nowhere, on his birthday.

“Happy birthday,” Felix turns around to face Changbin. “Again,” he smiles, blinding lights of the phone illuminating his face and the cookie in his hands. Changbin takes it, looking at the cookie like it’s the strangest object on the planet earth. It obviously was baked not recently but the smell is still strong, something between vanilla and cinnamon.

“I’m sorry for ruining such an endearing moment,” Changbin laughs a little, still staring at the treat in his hands. “But where did this come from?” 

Felix also follows along, his deep laughter striking silence like a thunder. “I baked them yesterday because I wanted to cheer up my co-workers,” he explains, looking at the ground shyly. “But there were a lot so I brought some back.”

“You don’t look like someone working at the office,” Changbin observes how suit hugs the boy’s figure again. And that does something to his guts as there is a tug in the pit of his stomach.

“Thank you, I guess?” Felix scratches the back of his head. “But you’re right, I’m not working at the office,” _bingo_ , Changbin thinks. He knew something doesn’t match. “I’m a part of local dance team, and we did a cover dance but like, in suits,” he explains, dreaming grin plastered across his face.

“But why you’re still in suit?” Changbin asks, a little confused.

“Uhm,” it’s hard to spot, but Changbin still notices pale pink colour appearing on the boy’s cheeks. “I accidentally spilled coffee on my clothes. So I had to head back like this,” he admits shyly. “It’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s adorable,” Changbin says before he can stop himself. Felix stares back at him, lips parted and cheeks still flushing, but it’s quickly replaced with a soft smirk. “I mean, cute. What a cute situation,” he clears his throat, eyes wandering around avoiding the other boy’s gaze.

“I’m kind of unfortunate, as you can see,” Changbin looks up to see as Felix smiles at his own words. “But,” the boy leans in closer, head resting on his knees. “Sort of happy that I stuck there today.”

Changbin holds a breath, feeling as if his heart stopped beating all at once. Felix is close, unbelievably close as their knees brush against each other, and the boy’s locks fall a bit over his eyes prettily, making his gaze even more dreamy. He also notices splutter of freckles, similar to Chan’s one, but more prominent, as they practically shine under not-that-good lighting, provided by Changbin’s phone. “But you hate close spaces, don’t you?” Now it’s his turn to talk in whisper, voice wavering as fidgets his fingers.

“But I met you, didn’t I?” Felix’s grin is almost mischievous, sly even, like he’s a cat whose trying to charm his owner.

And typically, it’s the moment when something either romantic or oddly stupid happens, as the tension seems to reach its peak and Felix stares at him for too long. Changbin flushes, but his pride doesn’t allow him to avert the gaze, so he just stares back, waiting for a long awaited outcome.

But then there is a loud bang again, and the moment is ruined as Felix’s let out a loud yelp, clutching on Changbin’s arm. “Hey, you!” They hear a rather annoyed voice, somewhere behind the elevator doors. “Are you alive in there?”

“I’m going to fucking kill them,” Changbin mutters and Felix huffs a laugh, still gripping onto Changbin tightly.

Surprisingly, it takes only around fifteen minutes to get them out as, luckily, the elevator stuck right in front of the seventh floor, and not somewhere in between. A technician – with an annoyed-looking lady observing their intertwined hands with a sour expression – genuinely asks if they are okay and need any medical help, but Changbin reassures him that it’s fine, throwing last death glare at the lady as they approach the staircase – they are told that elevator won’t be working for several hours.

“You don’t have to see me off right to my door, you know” Felix says jokingly. “I’m afraid of closed spaces, not ladders.”

“I have to make sure, you were not feeling well, so,” Changbin just shrugs.

“Thank you,” Felix says, stopping near the doors. “Not for this, just for,” he scratches the back of his head biting down on his lower lip, “everything. It was sweet.”

“No problem,” Changbin forces out, feeling as blood is pumping through his body. His palms are sweaty and head is dizzy, and it’s not something exactly pleasing. Not something he is used to.

There is a tensed silence, so to avoid even more embarrassment, Changbin hurryingly mumbles ‘good night’ turning around on his heels.

But there is a smile on his lips and pleasant swelling in his chest as he lies down in his bed that night.

*

Not that Changbin was precisely fond of mornings, but mornings on his birthday were even worse than regular ones.

Especially when you are woken up by a loud knock on the door.

At first, Changbin doesn’t really identify what is happening, as the sound echoes in his head louder and louder. Groggily sitting up and ruffling his hair he shouts ‘coming!’ putting on sweats and worn out hoodie. And as he opens the door he thinks he’s combusting.

Felix is standing at the doorframe, and even without his suit, in white shirt and black jeans, he still looks immaculate and oddly sophisticated. His face looks fresh, but Changbin can’t help but notice a slight tint of bags under his eyes. Then his eyes travel from his face to his hands and he thinks he’s combusting for real now, brain short-circuiting in attempts to process images in front of him.

Because Felix is holding a cake. _A fucking cake._ It’s covered in chocolate and decorated with fruits, creating fanciful patterns at the top, but the cake itself looks a bit loop-sided, and rather than seeming clumsy it gives him a cozy feel. “Happy Birthday!” Felix says, with a wide smile, stretching out a cake in his hands.

Changbin blinks once. Twice. Thrice. Counts to ten to reassure himself it’s not a dream. “I,-uhm,--,” he stutters out. “Thank you so much, but--,”

“I know,” Felix sighs, smile falling a little and Changbin feels a bit guilty. “You don’t like your birthdays but,” he takes a deep breath, “you said you just don’t think anyone would be happy to celebrate your existence in this life, and, well,” Felix’s voice drops a little. “I know I’m not even your friend, surely not your relative or parent, but I’m extremely happy to celebrate your existence, and here is my small present.”

Chanbing feels as his world collapses, as dramatic as it sounds. There was an order of things, a sequence of usual events, but it just took one boy with bleached hair and apologizing smile to crash everything down.

“I mean, it’s nothing much,” Felix breaks the silence when it gets too unbearable to handle. “And I can leave just,” he chews his on his lips. “Just take it, pl--,”

“Come in,” Changbin interrupts him, opening the door wider as he is unable to look at the boy’s heartbroken expression.

As if he would have guts to set him back home anyways.

Felix beams at that, rushing past Changbin into apartment. “You can leave it on the kitchen table,” Changbin says as the shock is finally gone. “I will make us something to drink.”

He follows Felix to the kitchens, inviting him to take a seat as he puts the cake on the table. It’s still a bit strange to see someone else in his lonesome apartment, as he is not a regular guest here himself, but it feels nice and warm. Like the sun came out.

Changbin clears his throat, filling kettle with water. “Coffee or tea?”

“Tea,” Felix replies. “Don’t really like coffee.”

Changbin nods, searching through the cupboards. It’s not that he has much to begin with, but at least he stores some stuff, just in case. The silence is a bit tensed, and Changbin can’t pinpoint what exactly he should do to make it go away. “Where did you get the cake?” Not the best attempt, but it least it’s something, and he won’t come up with something more original in this state.

“Oh,” Felix’s eyebrows rise up, mouth opening a little. “I made it.”

Changbin stumbles a little. “Wait, for real?” He traces gaze along the cake again.

“Yeah,” Felix confirms. “As I said, it’s nothing much. I made it, like, in couple of hours, and didn’t have many ingredients to begin with--,”

“It’s prefect,” Changbin cuts him off. “I didn’t have a lot of them in my life anyways.”

“It’s chocolate coated, and I made vanilla sponge. Also, I made custard and I put cherry glazing in between,” Felix explains, rotating the cake so Changbin could see a full view.

“It doesn’t sound like ‘nothing much’,” Changbin arches an eyebrow, taking a knife to cut the cake. “I can’t even cook eggs.”

“Why I’m not surprised,” Felix smirks and Changbin scowls at him, small laugh following along.

The food is accompanied by small talk, as Felix blabbers something on the background while Changbin serves pieces of cake on paper plates. Felix visibly questions the choice but Changbin just mumbles ‘don’t ask’ pushing plate in his direction. The cake is tasty, and as pretty on the inside as on the outside. Changbin is not precisely good in reading people, but he can surely say that Felix is a diligent person with the way all the layers are almost perfectly even.

“Thank you again,” Changbin says, munching on the last piece. “Not only for the cake.”

“You’re welcome,” Felix rests on his elbows, observing Changbin’s apartment curiously. “What would you like to do now?”

Changbin chokes on his food and starts coughing violently. He didn’t expect for this to have a continuation. “What do you mean?” Changbin wheezes, trying to soothe his throat with water.

“I won’t leave you alone on your birthday, duh,” Felix rolls his eyes, like it’s the most obvious thing. “We don’t have to leave the house, though. We could watch a movie, or just talk.”

Changbin goes completely numb again. Not that he doesn’t want that, the thought of Felix leaving being even more heartbreaking, but at the same time he is confused, and a bit scared and completely baffled. “Actually, I’m working today,” he hopes Felix hears the disappointment in his voice. He really hopes.

But Felix probably doesn’t, because his expression quickly changes from happy to a rather gloomy one. “Oh,” he mumbles, looking down at his hands.

“But you can see me off to work,” Changbin suddenly blurts out, not really knowing what he is doing. “We have a lot of time left, so we may take a walk, my workplace is not that far from here,” he looks out of the window and quickly realises that something is thumping against the glass. He comes closer and sighs, looking as raindrops are glistering on the surface. “It’s raining, though,” Changbin sighs.

“It’s fine!” Felix exclaims, rather enthusiastically. “It’s not that heavy, I think we wouldn’t even need an umbrella.”

Changbin looks out of the window, stretching out hand to feel how bad it is. Though, it really is more misty than rainy, but he feels shivers as the wind is pretty chilly for august. He throws judging glance at Felix’s white shirt. “You will get soaked through and probably get a cold.”

“I will go pick up my hoodie then,” Felix starts standing up.

“Wait,” Changbin puts a hand on his shoulder, and makes him sit back into place. He goes through his closet, pulling out a purple hoodie, throwing it on the boy’s knees. Felix looks at it like it’s the eighth wonder of the world.

“I love purple!” Wide smile lights up his whole face while Felix looks at the piece of clothing.

“Thought it would suit you,” Changbin smiles back but then flushes, clearing his throat. “Let’s go, then?”

Felix beams and the room seems to light up once again.

*

Usually rainy days has this distinct fragrance. Of dampness, rawness, and something breezy and invigorating.

But as lyrical as Changbin is, rainy days feel rather hopeful, nostalgic, even. It makes you miss something that you never had, but still leaves you with a heart-lifting feeling in your chest.

Changbin thinks he needs his notebook and a pen right now. Before words and ideas slipped away from his mind.

“You love rainy days, don’t you?” Felix bumps into his shoulder gently, shrinking a bit in Changbin’s purple hoodie. It suits him a lot, making a nice contrast with his skin. “Your face looks kind of excited and I’m pretty sure you weren’t listening to what I have been talking about.”

“Sorry,” Changbin huffs, but Felix shakes his head as if telling ‘it’s fine’. “I just think of lyrics sometimes, in my head, and I’m kind of afraid of forgetting them,” he scratches the back of his head, sheepishly looking to the ground.

“Lyrics?” Felix asks, blinking fast. “You write?”

“Ah, I didn’t tell you, right,” Changbin laughs. “I’m working in small producing company. I mean, like, _very small_. Tiny, I would say.” He thinks of their small studio, shabby and scratched, being really far from something luxurious or fanciful. “But we do compose songs for companies. Not big yet, but we’re getting there.”

Felix’s eyes are still open wide, and it looks oddly adorable. “Wow, that’s so cool,” his voice sounds excited yet sincere. “Do you write for yourself too?”

“Constantly,” Changbin nods. “I have a soundcloud, actually,” he flushes. Self-promo was never something he was good at. “I will send you a link,” he says, looking as Felix is opening his mouth to answer his silent question. “Inspiration is such an interesting thing. Literally anything can trigger lyric-writing process in my head. But rainy days feel somehow special. Maybe because I’m a bit melancholic on the inside,” Changbin smirks. “Not on the outside, though. I’m kind of loud.”

“Rainy days feel romantic,” Felix replies, stretching out both of his hands and small drops start appearing on his palm, as if he’s catching them. “Makes me think of emotional songs,” he looks up, as if in attempts to remember something. “ _All you do is take, take, take, but you're giving me nothing,”_ he sings in a small voice, but it sounds so calm and soothing, and Changbin thinks it’s the most beautiful voice he had ever heard in his life.

Of course in his completely unbiased opinion.

But then it strikes him. “Wait, is it One Ok Rock?” The melody is definitely familiar, and Felix’s pronunciation is very clear, so Changbin easily recognizes the song.

“You know them?” Felix smiles, and Changbin nods. “And here I thought it couldn’t get more perfect,” he teases, elbowing him gently.

Changbin lets out a strange noise, something close to wheeze, but quickly masks it with coughing, trying to keep up with his face. Yet, he is sure his ears are giving him away. “What’s that’s supposed to mean?” He asks, voice still raspy and strained.

But Felix just shrugs with a sly smile.

And then winks.

_Winks._

Changbin’s mind literally fills with sequence of exclamation marks, glowing red somewhere inside of his brain as he stares back in confusion, feeling numb once again. “You’re… _something else,”_ he finally forces out, huffing in slight amusement.

“Shouldn’t birthdays be romantic?” Felix suggest, and Changbin doesn’t need to see his face to know that he is smiling.

“Should we kiss in the rain now?” Changbin teases, watching as it’s Felix’s turn to blush now. Changbin doesn’t want to admit it, but it brings him a slight tint of satisfaction.

“And he says I’m something else,” Felix mumbles, cheeks still flushing. Changbin rolls his eyes at that, gaze the switching to the crowds of people under their umbrellas rushing somewhere in different directions. The irritation is obvious on their faces and Changbin understands it, as trying to get to work in rainy weather is not the most pleasant experience.

Yet, Changbin is happy today. Despite it being his birthday, despite the fact that he woke up unbelievably early, and not really paying attention to chilly and rainy weather.

 _Maybe because I have a sun by my side now._ Changbin groans loudly.

“What?” Felix asks, traces of laughter still present in his voice.

“Turns out I’m unbelievably sappy,” he replies, rubbing his nape nervously, millions of thoughts going through his mind. “Look, my workplace is nearby,” he suddenly stops at the middle of the street. “And, well, I’m really happy to have you here today? And I wanted to say thank you, and,” he takes a deep breath, watching as Felix looks at him with glints of curiosity in his eyes, “Maybe you would like to have dinner with me?” Changbin keeps up his stoic demeanour, but inside he feels like his chest is breaking from how fast his hear is beating against the ribcage.

Felix’s eyes disappear in endearing eye smile, and it seem better than any reply Changbin could actually hear, so he sighs with relief. “I would love too,” he says, playing with laces hanging down his hoodie. “I may make you a birthday dinner.”

Changbin clears his throat, rubbing his palms against rough fabric of his jeans. “Deal then.”

It’s not exactly silent, as people rush back in forth past them, and random voices filling Changbin ears here and there. But at the same time it feels oddly quiet with the way Felix looks at him, as if waiting for something. Changbin gathers traces of courage that are left, and says, in weary voice: “Can I get a birthday kiss?”

Felix's eyebrows rise up, but the expression is quickly replaced by mischievous one. He takes a step closer, and Changbin thinks he dies over and over again. Felix is breathtaking, with raindrops placed right over his freckles, hair a bit damp and eyes eager and enchanting. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. Chaste, simple, rather quick, too quick for Changbin’s liking, but he still feels shivers going in waves up and down, making him feel too warm under the cold rain.

They part, but Changbin quickly catches Felix’s fingers, lacing them together. “Happy birthday, Seo Changbin,” the boy says, griping on his fingers tightly.

And, who knows, maybe birthdays aren’t that bad, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it ^^ and i hope it wasn't too angsty for a birthday fic hehe
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/softouchan)


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